by Clare Revell
She heaved a sigh. “No. Been too busy. I’ll ring them now and hope they have a record.”
“Oh, they will. Ask them to send the new one ASAP. You have a lesson booked.”
She blanched. “That’s not a question, is it?”
“Nope. Before you even consider arguing, I am not rearranging the driving lesson either. This is non-negotiable.”
“Oh, joy.” She managed to emphasise the sarcasm whilst looking totally unenthusiastic.
“Once you’ve passed your test, you’ll take the police driving course.”
Zander winked. “We all have to do that one every year. It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”
“I’m not. It’s just…never mind.” She shook her head and picked up her phone. She hit the buttons as noisily as she could. “Hello. I’d like to speak to someone regarding a driving licence, please. Yes, this is DC York at Thames Valley Police.”
Zander chuckled “That’s one way to do it.” He rose and strode over to the incident board. He wrote under Mrs. Kowalski’s photo. “I’m leaving this up on its own board, because it’s not the same killer. Well, as far as the MOs of leaving the victims goes. But there is a connection.” He put the pen down. “How’s your wife, Guv?”
“Miffed at being sent away. But otherwise she’s OK.”
“What did you do with the kids?”
“Adeline has the baby. Vianne is at school. She goes to the library, which is in the school complex, with Dane’s girls until we’ve finished work.” He checked his watch. “Speaking of which, it’s time to go and get them.”
“Already? It’s only lunchtime.”
“Half inset day. And the library is closed today.”
“Maybe a bodyguard would be a better idea.”
DI Holmes shook his head. “No. I can protect them myself just fine. And I want Isabel in a safehouse. I also want all the rest of the women on that list warned.”
“All one hundred and forty plus of them?” He held the Guv’s gaze for a moment then nodded. “I’ll get right on it.”
Isabel put the phone down. “They want an up to date photo, which I have to pay for. Then pay for the new licence and they’ll re-issue it. Should take a week or two by the time the photo has got to them.”
“That’s too long.” DI Holmes scowled. “Who were you speaking to?”
“A very nice Welsh lady called Gwynedd.”
DI Holmes frown deepened. “I’ll get it sorted. Leave it with me. You have a current photo on the system here, right?”
She waved her ID at him. “Taken when I transferred here in May.”
DS Philips handed an envelope to Zander. “You got mail.”
Zander glanced at the post mark, his stomach pitting.
“Maybe the Slayer is writing to you now,” Isabel said with a chuckle.
Zander shook his head. “Nope. It’s the exam results.”
“Open them, then.”
He didn’t want to. Not in front of everyone. It’d be bad enough he’d failed without everyone witnessing it.
“It makes no difference.” Isabel paused. “I mean you’ll be buying the cakes either way, right?”
He raised an eyebrow.
She grinned. “I was on social media last night and cake fines are all the rage amongst most police forces. You crash the police car and you buy cakes. You’re late for duty…cakes. You make an arrest…cakes. You get promoted…cakes. You fail the promotion exam…cakes. Someone went as far as doing an official document for it—the Cake Act of the police procedural, section 2011. I’ll show you.”
DS Philips laughed. “Maybe we should just write our own and put it on the wall. We need more cakes.”
Isabel smirked. “Wife gets pregnant…cakes. Wife has a baby…cakes.”
Jason chuckled. “New bloke joins…cakes.”
“Exactly.” Isabel turned to Zander. “See you have to buy cakes anyway, so better open the letter fast. Or I can do it for you.”
“I’ll do it.” Zander sucked in a deep breath. He slit the envelope and pulled out the sheaf of papers. He read, heart in his mouth.
“Well?”
He couldn’t keep his face straight any longer. “I passed.” It was all he could do not to fist pump the air, but he was trying to be a grown up about this.
The entire squad broke into applause and cheers. Cries of “Well done, mate,” rang out and various people thumped him hard on the back.
Isabel rounded the desk. She quietly hugged him. “Well done, you. Never had any doubts you’d pass. Come on, I’ll buy you lunch to celebrate, and then take you to a cake shop so you can buy them for us. Oh, and we also need to look at paint samples.”
Confusion flooded him. “Paint?”
“To redecorate your dining room so Mr. Mac can get out of hospital and move into yours.”
“Sure.” He looked at the clock. “Come on, then, as its lunchtime. We can go now.”
“Don’t forget the cakes, Sarge,” Austin called. “We’ll work on the official Cake Act whilst you’re out.”
Zander grinned. “I don’t think Isabel will let me forget.”
~*~
After a really long afternoon, Isabel glanced at Zander as he got out of the car. “You don’t have to walk me to the door, you know.”
“The Guv told me to.” He looked at her over the top of the car. “So I will.”
“He didn’t mean it literally.” She longed to roll her eyes at him, but even that was too much effort this evening.
“Hey, he wants every woman on that list in protective custody until the Slayer is caught. And that includes you.”
She tugged the keys from her bag. She unlocked the door and stepped on a card lying on the mat. She stooped and picked it up. “Hmm, post office tried to deliver a parcel when I was out. It’s next door.”
“Then we go get it.”
Isabel headed next door and rang the bell. “Hello Mr. Kitchener. The postman left me a parcel?”
“Yes, he did.” The man picked up a large box from his hallway. “Want me to take it for you? It’s not that heavy, just large.”
Zander held out his arms. “I’ll take it.”
Isabel thanked Mr. Kitchener and followed Zander back to her place. She opened the door again.
“He wasn’t kidding about this being large,” Zander said. “What did you order?”
“Nothing,” she replied. “Shove it on the coffee table in the lounge.” Once Zander settled the box, she ripped off the parcel tape and opened the box.
Bile rose fast and she barely made it to the bathroom in time.
Zander followed her. “Is?”
“Mr. T,” she managed. “He’s in the box.”
8
Time stood still or stretched eternally across eons. Isabel wasn’t sure. The now covered box still sat on the coffee table. Isabel sat beside it. Cheeks damp and eyes sore, but no more tears. Zander slid his phone back into his pocket. “SOCO is on the way, as is the vet. The Guv is also coming. He wants you to pack a bag and get out of here. I’m taking you to mine.”
She shook her head, sniffing. “I don’t think so.”
“He said you’d say that. And told me to say he’ll make it an order and pack for you.”
Isabel stood. “Fine,” she huffed. “I’ll find a hotel or something, but only for a couple of nights. Then I’m coming home.”
“He also knew you’d say that,” Zander countered, that irritating grin crossing his lips. “He says it’s a safehouse with a bodyguard, or my place with me.”
She scowled. Why did every single bloke she knew seem determined to live her life for her and order her around? It was beyond infuriating and she’d had a gutful of it. “Then I guess it’s your couch.”
Zander beamed. “This will be so much fun. As well as sleepovers, we can have popcorn and paint our nails…” He paused, then tilted his head at her. “Not working?”
“I am not in the mood for funny right now, Alezander,” she said, using his fu
ll name. “I’m going to pack. You can let everyone in.”
She ran to her bedroom and shut the door firmly. Part of her wanted to shout and scream like a toddler throwing a hissy fit, another part wanted to sit and cry and mourn Mr. T, but the most sensible part of her prevailed. Reaching above the wardrobe, she tugged down her case and slung it onto the bed.
Everything seemed surreal, from Mr. T’s body being delivered through the post, to being ordered to pack and leave her home. Not that she wanted to be here anymore. She’d call her landlord from Zander’s place and give notice. If she lost the deposit, so be it.
The doorbell rang. Zander’s footsteps echoed and voices followed shortly after. She assumed that was SOCO, as the Guv would make a beeline for her to assure himself, she really was packing. She shoved as much as she could into the suitcase, her mind whirling. Why was she doing this? Was the killer just teasing her? Or was he picking on her for some other reason? Was the Slayer someone she knew and had annoyed somehow?
She glanced at the door as someone knocked. “It’s open.”
Zander peered around the edge. “Are you ready?”
“Not sure why I bothered to change the locks this morning,” she muttered. “I’ll be fine here for tonight. We can arrange something more permanent tomorrow.”
“I told you what the Guv said. It’s not up for debate.” Zander came in. “Is that one done?”
“Almost.” Isabel tossed in a few more items then slammed the lid closed. “Need some stuff from the bathroom. Then tomorrow I need to find storage for everything I own.”
“Are you moving out?”
“Yes!” She tamped down the anger. “Yes, I am. I don’t see the point in paying for somewhere I’m not living. None of the furniture is mine, so it’s just boxing up clothes, bedding and ornaments and so on. I don’t even own the plates.” She paused. “And no, I’m not doing this in a fit of temper or out of spite or anything.”
“Where are you going?”
“I have no idea.” Her voice rose in anger and frustration. “I’ll find somewhere. Timbuktu, maybe. Somewhere this bloke will never be able to find me and taunt me again.”
He leaned his hip against the door frame. “Is, calm down, please. All we want is you safe and alive at the end of this mess. No one is picking on you because you’re a woman. Trust me, I’ll be the first in line to deck them if I thought that was happening all over again. With the Guv next in line after me.” He paused. “You can store stuff at mine. In fact, you’re welcome to stay with me until you find somewhere else. You don’t need the couch either. I have a spare room.”
“Thank you. I know this is necessary, but it frustrates me that this person has taken control of my life like this.” She nodded to the case. “That one can go.” Grabbing her hand luggage, she headed into the bathroom and cleared out both cabinet and under sink cupboard completely, with the exception of the cleaning stuff.
Zander looked at her. “Ready?”
“Yeah.”
He took the case and bag. “I’ll put these in the car. Grab whatever else you need for tonight.”
Isabel thought for a second, and then went to the kitchen intending to fetch her favourite mug—the purple one Gran had given her for her birthday. Tea just didn’t taste the same out of anything else.
DI Holmes was talking to the vet. He glanced up. “Isabel. Have you finished packing?”
“Zander is putting it in the car now. Can I just say, on the record, that I don’t want to do this?”
He inclined his head. “Nor did my wife, but she wasn’t given a choice either. I don’t want anything happening to you.”
“It won’t.”
“Probably not, but you’re on the list and someone is obviously out to hurt you. They’ve broken in here, possibly killed your gran, and now Mr. T.”
“Yeah. Well, they succeeded in hurting me.”
A member of the SOCO team bagged the cat dishes.
“Where do you keep the cat food?”
“Under the sink. His toys are all over the lounge and under the sofa.”
Rory O’Leary, the vet, looked at her, compassion in his gaze. “I’m really sorry, Isabel. I’ll be gentle with him. Would you like me to see to his remains once the tests are completed?”
She nodded. “Please.” She’d nowhere to bury him now.
Zander appeared beside her. “Shall we go and leave them to it?”
She nodded and grabbed her mug from the mug tree. “I can pack everything else tomorrow. It won’t take long.”
“I’ll give you a hand.” He winked and held out one arm. “Only the one. The other will be busy doing something else.”
She looked at him.
“Not even a slight smile? Oh, well, I tried. Come along. Let’s get you settled in somewhere safe.”
She trudged after Zander to his car, averting her gaze from the ruined house opposite. “Maybe I should have got a phone that does more than text and ring. I actually miss the note app and the camera.”
“Then let’s get one.”
“Now?”
Zander nodded. “Late night shopping. I can also help you set it up.”
“Thank you.”
He unlocked the car and held the door open for her. Once she was inside, he held out his phone. “In the meantime, have at mine. You know the code.”
Isabel unlocked it and began a new note.
Quit lease. Get boxes. Pack up all stuff. Buy new phone. Buy decent biscuits for work. Talk to Sara Barnes the artist.
~*~
Zander drove Isabel to work the following morning. It had been an interesting evening. They’d bought Isabel a phone and he’d helped her set it up. A different make from her last one, she’d needed new ID on it, but this would be easier with both of them having the same brand. He’d given her the spare bedroom and it was strange having someone else in the house. He’d made a conscious effort to put clothes on before wandering to the bathroom first thing.
“Definitely quicker going to work this way,” he quipped.
“I guess so.” She glanced at him. “Why not simply put in a stair lift, and then Mr. Mac could have one of the upstairs rooms. I mean you do have four bedrooms. It seems silly to convert the dining room.”
Zander snorted. “Oh, yeah, right. I can hear him complaining about that now.” He adopted his grandfather’s accent. “It’s a waste of money putting that darn thing in for a few weeks. I don’t need looking after. Soon as I can I’ll be back in my flat.”
She laughed. “Me, too. So maybe not.”
“That green does look good though.” He referenced the pale green paint they’d found time to slap on the dining room walls. Once Isabel decided to start something, she saw it through, he’d give her that. They’d emptied the dining room of all the furniture and put the first coat of paint on the walls before she’d finally admitted she was tired at eleven. He’d been shattered by ten, but knew Isabel was trying to keep her mind occupied so he’d gone with it.
The late night meant he’d had to forgo the morning run as there was no way he could go to bed at eleven and still be up at five.
“It might not even need a second coat,” she said. “Are you still bringing his bed from the flat or getting a new one?”
“That’s up to him. Though I might just haul one down from upstairs.” He smirked. “He can have yours.”
“I don’t think so, mister,” Isabel shot back. “That was the most comfortable bed I’ve slept on ever. Though I am surprised you have a double bed in the spare room.”
He shrugged. “It was in the master, but I prefer a single bed anyway, so I swapped them over.”
“I might never go back to a single.” She stretched her arms wide. “There’s so much room to move it’s wonderful. We need to talk to Sara Barnes today. Reckon the Guv would let us go on a field trip to Scotland?”
He snorted. “No way, Jose. You could try asking though, just for the LOLS.”
“For the LOLS?” she repeated. �
�How old are you? Ten?”
He pulled into the work car park. “I wish. We could spend the day at the park playing on the swings and in the paddling pool. You could be my responsible adult and make sure I wear sunscreen and a hat.”
“Think I am anyway. I’ll let the Guv know.” She jumped out and jogged inside before he’d even turned off the engine.
Up in the squad room, DI Holmes pounced as soon as they entered the room. “Zander, there you are. I need a word in my office. Now.”
Isabel laughed. “You’re in trouble already. See, I do need to be the responsible one in this partnership.”
“Probably.” He shed his jacket, dumped it on his desk, and then headed into the small glass panelled office. “Guv?”
“Shut the door.”
Zander did so slowly. What had he done? His mind raced, trying to work out what wrong he’d committed to deserve this first thing in the morning. “Isabel’s coming around to the idea of staying at mine for the time being. She’ll be safe there.”
“Good. Amy Philips went into labour last night. Dane drove up there as soon as she rang him. He’ll keep me informed as to how things go. He’ll be on paternity leave for two weeks which leaves me a sergeant down at a time when I can’t afford to be.” DI Homes studied him. “How would you like a position here in the squad as sergeant?”
Zander’s pulse throbbed in his neck and he tried hard not to grin too hard. “Until he gets back?”
“I’ve spoken to him and I need two sergeants. I don’t want to lose you to another department or nick, and Dane is perfectly happy to share the workload with you. You’re a good cop, Zander, one of the better ones I’ve worked with over the years.”
For one of the few times in his life, Zander was well and truly gobsmacked. “I don’t know what to say.”
“If you need time to think about it…”
“No.” Zander interrupted, not wanting the chance to slip away. “Thank you, I’d love to take the position.”
DI Holmes smiled and shook his hand. “Good. I’ll sort the paperwork. We can tell the others during the morning briefing.”
“Can I tell Isabel first?”
“Of course.”
Zander nodded and strode to the door. As he opened it, Isabel was there, hand raised ready to knock. He moved out of her way.